The flight from San Francisco to Paris, the overnight in the Latin Quarter, the train to Bayonne , all seem like preliminaries. Even my most scenic bus ride ever, from Bayonne to St. Jean pied-de-Port, through the foothills of the Pyrenees. All overlayed with a sheen of unreality, perhaps partly due to jet lag. D. and I came into St. Jean-pied-deport quite late, in gathering dusk, but found one pleasant restaurant still open, and afterwards heard beautiful choir singing coming from a church on La Rue de la Citadelle. (St. Jean is actually the “new” St. Jean, the older town having been destroyed by Richard the Lion-hearted !)  Had a short overnight in an AirBnB outside town, which we found our way to in the dark after some effort.

We made our way back down in the predawn light to the pilgrim’s office, where we each obtained our pilgrim credential and shell.The sun was now rising and turning the Pyrenees red. I felt a quiet thrill to be starting, and recognized the scene from movies. After some discussion as to whether or not we should eat breakfast before starting this 25 km hike, we made our way down the narrow street out through the Porte Notre-Dame. Quite soon out of town the road turns steeply upward. The route today starts as a normal asphalt road, through countryside, and only much later gives way to an unpaved way or track.

The landscape is quite open, with mixed trees and fields, and later becomes treeless and grassy. People seem to find it hard going, but for those like me used to hiking in California hills, the slope seemed quite moderate. There is a rest stop at a place called Orisson after 8 km, where one can relax with a coffee in a large patio area, and enjoy the view of the mountains. One person cut in line in the one, crowded cafe/bar, which was quite unpilgrim-like. After Orisson, there is less and less tree cover , until it is all grass, with stone outcrops. Groups of sheep, cows and horses , with bells continuously sounding. That, and the sound of the wind. D. and I met and chatted with a group of Irish ladies from Dublin.

Summit after summit, through similar landscape. Larger stone formations, stronger wind, sweeping views, and horses on the road …
At last, the way turns to an unpaved path, which starts sloping gently down through unearthly-looking, bent, thin, trees. We pass the fountain of Roland. (This pass through the mountains is where Charlemagne’s army was attacked and defeated by Basque locals.)
Down and down, until about 3km from the destination, the track degenerates into a steep gulley . Fortunately there is an alternative, less steep, wide gravel road, a bit longer. I’m feeling somewhat exhausted as we finally arrive at day’s destination (former monastery – no real town there.) We eventually are installed in a relatively modern 4 person cubicle. Someone came around later to count the people in beds ! “Pilgrims dinner” in nearby restaurant was mainly an unadorned chicken leg, and some cold french fries. We were seated with some young Italian guys. Lights out at 10 PM. Slept until 3 AM (jet lag). Then slept 4 – 6 AM.